


This Beautiful Chaotic

by amidtheflowers



Category: This Beautiful Fantastic
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, not quite a fixit but it should've ended like this, warm squeezy hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:05:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: Bella Brown, in the truest form of optimistic naïveté, had thought that the start of something new (Billy) would be the end of something very old (Bella-isms). How very wrong she was.





	This Beautiful Chaotic

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, folks! This fic was written for a very pretty little movie called "This Beautiful Fantastic". And while lovely it was, I didn't quite understand why Vernon was not the endgame in that scenario, so I wrote a little sequel of sorts that makes sure that happens. If you haven't seen this film I would go watch that first before even attempting to read this, because it wouldn't make sense otherwise. 
> 
> This also seems to be a very very very newborn fandom (cough no one else has written for it yet, cough), so hooray for new beginnings! I've also attempted at Scottish Gaelic here which I'm almost certain isn't all correct, so I am preemptively sorry!
> 
> Unbeta'd, so please forgive any mistakes. Enjoy xxx

** This Beautiful Chaotic **

**-:-**

Bella Brown, in the truest form of optimistic naïveté, had thought that the start of something new (Billy) would be the end of something very old (Bella-isms). How very wrong she was.

It began not long after Alfie’s funeral.

**-:-**

Her eyes flew open, blinking in the dim morning light. The clock read six-thirty. Bella pushed off the bed and slipped into the slippers she had neatly placed by the nightstand the night before. Carefully folding the duvet over the bed, she began her morning.

She showered, using exactly two pumps of shampoo and three pumps of conditioner. She picked the seven a.m. toothbrush and brushed twenty times on each set of teeth, side to side, top and bottom, front and back. She cleaned and she dressed and she had two slices of toast, finding herself waiting for the clock to hit seven-thirty before digging in.

At eight she nearly left the house to head to the library, before remembering again she no longer worked there and would not _need_ to work there if she kept at her writing. The income was slow but so far steady. She had to keep going.

Vernon did not pop in as he usually would, having told her the night before that Sinead and Neave had parent-teacher meetings at the school and it would take most of his day. It was odd, the silence—she hadn’t felt it in such a long while. So when the phone began to ring, Bella rushed to answer.

“Hello?” she said, slightly breathless.

“Bella?”

She smiled. “Billy.”

“Yes, I—I was wondering, if maybe, y…you were otherwise occupied for a late lunch.” His tone over the receiver as bright and hopeful as she remembered him to be.

“Why late?” she couldn’t help but add a teasing hint to her voice.

“W-well one of the, ah, inventions may be smoking up the workshop right now, else I’d’ve asked for sooner.”

“That’s quite alarming. Is everything alright?”

“Oh yes! No, it just—damn—no it’s perfectly manageable. But I’d—I’ve been hoping to see you today, hence the later than usual meal.”

“What did you have in mind?” Bella leaned against the wall, tangling her fingers with the spiral cord.

“Anything, really.”

“Could come here, then.”

“At your house?”

“Yes. You do remember how to get here, right?”

On the other end he exhaled softly, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I remember. How’s three-thirty sound to you?”

Bella glanced at her typewriter, where words were on the cusp of being written but not quite there yet. She remembered the surge of inspiration, endemic whenever Billy was near her, and she smiled.

“Three-thirty sounds perfect.”

**-:-**

It was not perfect.

Billy arrived in a flourish of arms and scrolls and papers and skewed glasses; crooked smiles and unsteady hands, with a whirlwind of disarray that seemed to invade every aspect of his existence.

“Just—mind the flowers,” Bella cringed as Billy fumbled inside her kitchen, attempting to unload the things he was carrying onto the table.

“Where?” Billy pushed up his glasses and turned around, and his elbow caught against the radio on the mantle and sent it crashing down to the hardwood floor.

Bella stopped breathing. Her eyes went wide and wordlessly she strode to the radio, kneeling down and checking it fervently with trembling fingers.

She didn’t hear him at first, not until she realized the radio was not working the same. It wasn’t catching the signal correctly, and the feedback was unclear and drawn out. She turned the radio off, and only then did she hear the fervent, “—sorry, _so_ sorry, Bella. B-but I’m an inventor and I can fix that! I promise, I can fix it.”

“Leave it,” she said, quietly. She shot him a quick smile when she saw the truly devastated look he was giving her. “I’m very particular. I’ll fix it myself.”

He bobbed his head nervously as she carefully took the mantle to her room. It felt a bit melodramatic, laying it on the window sill as if laying it to rest. Bella swallowed hard and went back to the kitchen.

The food, thank goodness, hadn’t been perturbed by Billy’s fumblings. Turkey and ham sandwiches with tea; nothing too fancy, just simple. Like Billy and Bella.

“So,” Bella smiled at him as they sat together at the kitchen table. “Tell me of your latest inventions.”

Billy beamed and launched into his work, his eyes near-manic with enthusiasm. Crumbs spilled from his sandwiches, forgotten. She fought the urge to sweep them little by little with her finger. His eyes gleamed, arms waving exaggeratedly with animation. More contraptions soaring, boats gliding in the night. Flakes of bread skittered to the floor.

“How’s Luna?” Bella asked abruptly.

“Luna?”

“Yes,” Bella smiled lightly, “I’ve missed her. How is she? Still flying?”

Billy’s gaze became awkward, and he rubbed the back of his head. “Er—Luna flew a little too far into the sun, I’m afraid. I’ve rechristened her to Icarus.”

Bella’s eyes rounded in horror. “No!”

“Yes, unfortunately. So sorry, Bella. But she was a side project—fanciful really, until I could get my greater projects started—”

“But,” Bella was at a loss for words. “Surely you can fix her. It’s Luna! She belongs in the skies, soaring to her heart’s content.”

“I…could,” Billy said slowly, hesitant. “Perhaps in a few months. I can’t really sell her or patent the design yet, darling. She won’t make any money and—and I would very much rather focus on things that could. You understand, right Bella?”

“I do,” said Bella. She became very quiet, and said very little for the rest of their meal until Billy left for work again.

**-:-**

Bella was still sweeping the crumbs from the floor when the kitchen door clattered open. Little, excitable voices filled the room and Bella smiled when two twin girls stood before her.

“Did you have a nice day today, Miss Bella?” Neave asked, swinging her clasped hands behind her back.

“Did the tall man come for tea?” Sinead eyed the empty plates and cups on the kitchen table.

“Dinner’ll be ready soon girls, go start on your homework,” Vernon ushered them to the little table Bella had set up for them weeks ago. She caught Vernon’s eye and he gave her an exasperated little grin, rolling his eyes.

“Long day?” Bella couldn’t help but tease once they were alone in the kitchen.

Vernon sagged against the counter. “You would not believe. They’re sweet as angels, but put them in a building with five hundred screaming children and you have two red-haired little monsters on your hands.”

“I’m guessing the suit and tie didn’t help you, there.”

Bella eyed the brown suit he was wearing, a little worn but still very good on him. Vernon glanced down at himself and shrugged out of the suit jacket with a groan.

“Not even a bit. I’m fairly sure this green bit here is paint that I dipped my elbow in.” He rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves unbuttoned the top two buttons, running a hand through his hair. Poor man was well and truly exhausted. Bella’s eyebrow rose.

“What about that brown bit there?” She nodded at his shoulder.

Vernon followed her gaze to the brown stain on his shoulder. He shook his head. “I don’t even want to know.” His eyes flickered to the mess on the table, then to Bella crouched down the floor with a dust pan. “See you’ve had a bit of a day too.”

“Yes.” Bella nodded, trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage. “It’s been a day.”

“Lemme help you with that,” Vernon had already begun clearing the mess on the table before finishing his sentence. Bella struggled to her feet, holding out her hands towards him.

“No it’s alright, I—”

The words died on her lips when Vernon cleared the forgotten food bits on the table first, sweeping them with his fingers then throwing them away. “S’alright Bella, I’ve got it.” Vernon smiled brightly at her and started on the dishes and cups. He moved easily in her kitchen, knowing where it all went and how it was meant to be cleared away. How Bella cleared things away.

She stared at him for a long moment, something like confusion and recognition swirling in her eyes. Vernon caught her gaze and smiled again before running the sink.

The girls giggled in the other room. Bella blinked, and bent down to sweep the crumbs with the dustpan again.

**-:-**

“You sure you don’t want more mash?” Vernon gave her a worried look. Bella had picked at most of her food, eating very little.

“No, thank you. I’m still full from late lunch.”

“It’s not the cooking, is it? Because I used fennel this time and wasn’t sure if—” Vernon winced a little and Bella quickly shook her head.

“No, it’s wonderful! You’re the best cook I know,” she assured him firmly. Vernon smiled, the tenseness in his shoulder relaxing. Bella took another spoonful and held it up to her mouth before pausing. Her eyes went wide and Vernon paled.

“It _is_ the fennel, isn’t it.”

“No,” Bella dropped the spoon back onto the plate and leaned closer to him on the table. “Vernon. Alfie’s gone.”

Vernon gave her an odd look. “Yes…did you only just realize?”

“No, Vernon—he was your employer! It’s been two weeks. How’re you…you still come here and cook for me and I’ve never paid you and you have rent and bills to pay.” Vernon started to smile, and it only made her more upset. Bella exclaimed, “How are you not panicking? You, you need a job, Vernon, and I’ve been _leeching_ off your services and the girls need you!”

Vernon nodded, still smiling as he stared into his teacup, swirling its contents. Bella exhaled shakily, staring at him. “Got it all out?” he asked gently.

Bella nodded. Vernon nodded with her and set his cup down. “Alfie left the remainder of his wealth in my name. The old cod just couldn’t leave me alone, even after he was gone.” His smile turned tremulous, but just as quickly he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “The girls and I will be just fine. Thinking I’ll do a bit of catering here and there if need be, but I will be quite alright. Actually…”

Vernon flicked his eyes at her hesitantly. “What is it?” Bella asked.

“He’s left the estate to me as well. He’d bought it ages ago, it’s why he can plant all sorts of things in his garden…the garden is strictly yours though.”

“Mine?” Bella was surprised.

“Yes, well he knew with my allergies I’d never be a good caretaker. So long as you want it,” Vernon cleared his throat. “If you ever leave you won’t have to keep it…but yeah, I was thinking…the house is paid for, I’d be saving on rent, and,” he gave her a quick smile, “the commute to your kitchen would be shorter. Plus the girls’ school is closer. So,” he said cheerfully, “no need to worry.”

Bella absorbed his words slowly. “Oh.” She glanced up at Vernon, whose smile widened just a bit. She fought down the sudden heat rising on her cheeks. “I had a bit of a cow just then, didn’t I?”

“It was a nice cow. Well-meaning and such.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Being sorry for caring is…” Vernon stopped. His eyes narrowed. “Where’s the radio?”

Bella blinked. “The radio. Oh, right,” Bella glanced at the empty space at the mantle. “Billy, um, knocked it over when he came for tea. It’s in the bedroom. I said I’d fix it,” she said quickly.

“I’m not much of a tinkerer,” Vernon admitted, though he kept glancing out the doorway as if wanting to go to her bedroom and bring out the radio to fix.

“That’s alright. I don’t need a tinkerer,” Bella replied. Vernon looked at her, for a long moment.

“No, I daresay you don’t. Bella Brown is good enough,” the corners of his lips quirked up, and he glanced down at his teacup. “But I suppose I’ll have to fill in for your Gaelic lessons, with the radio gone.”

Bella tilted her head and a smile spread across her face.

“Yes. This will require an instructor. A good one.”

Vernon grinned. “Dìreach fòn orm mar ollamh, nighean bhòidheach.”

Bella swatted his arm, making Vernon laugh.

_Just call me professor, pretty girl._

**-:-**

That night Bella dreamt of swirling flower petals and hay feverish eyes, and several bulbs of fennel.

**-:-**

“See, the smoke’s cleared out and everything!”

Billy waved proudly at his workshop. Bella could see the parts that had caught fire, the charred walls standing in stark relief against the bright lights.

“I’m relieved,” said Bella, smiling happily. She remembered the rush she’d felt the first time she stepped foot here, the floodgate of imagery and wonder and endless possibilities. Billy was as imaginative and creative as her, but where he worked with his hands she worked with her words. Two pieces, come together.

“Oh I think so too, Bella,” Billy said beside her, and Bella startled. Had she said that out loud? Billy was staring at her with joy. “You are perfect.”

Bella’s smile increased, and she glanced around the workshop. “You need to clean more often.”

Billy snorted as Bella moved to his work bench. Sketches and drawings haphazardly strewn across it, empty mugs of tea, pens with ink stains on several papers. Bella shook her head and started sorting some of it out.

Her hand stilled on a large mug. Beneath it, with a distinct ring stain, was her book.

“Oh,” said Bella softly.

Billy came up behind her. “I’m so thrilled you’ve been published, darling. And see, I keep your book in my workshop at all times!”

“This was a gift,” Bella looked up at him. “For you. You started Luna.” She looked back down at her book, fingers tracing the stain lightly. The edges of the book were already fraying.

She wordlessly followed Billy when he urged her to see his latest design.

**-:-**

Billy was kind and gentle and a stuttery fellow, and he never remembered anything.

He forgot their lunches when she arranged them, or arrived indecently late. He carried his work with him always, spilling something on his way to his seat. Bella saw it less and less endearing, and more tiresome.

Billy could listen with rapt attention for seconds at a time, and those seconds were precious to her. She was the whole world, in those moments. But often he would look away, distracted, and scribble something down. She never knew what it was he’d be writing.

He was always half there, half-present in the physical world. And the other half was flying elsewhere with nuts and bolts and animatronic dragons, and it was lovely and beautiful to have such a mind. Bella only wished when he was with her, in the moments he allowed himself to be present in the physical world, he would actually _be_ there with her.

Billy was kind and he was gentle, and he threw out Luna.

She saw it the eve of her birthday, while sitting in his workshop. He had a business trip to go to tomorrow, some conference in London where he would present the blueprints of his designs. She saw Luna out the window while he was raving about the trip to her, sitting in the bin.

“Oh,” said Bella, not softly or upset but with a tone of realization. She turned to Billy. “Billy, I hope you have a wonderful trip to London. I have to go now.”

For the first time ever, Billy was stunned into silence.

**-:-**

Bella walked into her house with a soft sigh, half-heartedly turning all the locks and deadbolts in place. She smelled food cooking in the oven and the soft voices of Sinead and Neave.

“No she wouldn’t like that, Daddy, put it away.”

“It’s just a little bit of ribbon, she loves ribbons—”

“Not on radios!”

Bella’s breath stuttered to a stop. Whipping off her hat and gloves, Bella raced into the kitchen where the voices grew louder.

She stopped just at the threshold to the kitchen, taking in the scene before her. Sinead and Neave were on either side of Vernon, who was grappling with the ends of purple and pink ribbons. In the center of the table was her radio.

“Bollocks,” Vernon muttered and raked a hand in his hair, tugging lightly. “Hello, Bella. You’re early. Happy birthday. Early, erm, birthday.”

“Is that my radio?” Bella walked slowly towards him, staring at the radio that didn’t look at all bent or beaten anymore, and had a ribbon and bow on it now.

“Daddy fixed it,” Neave explained.

“He spent days,” Sinead continued.

“I added more things. Er, more than the Gaelic channel. Did a lot of research and,” Vernon swallowed, shrugging a bit nervously, “I put in an FM radio switch. Nothing else. And fixed the antenna. New batteries. Bit of a wax too. I was meant to give it to you tomorrow, all proper, but you came home a bit earlier than expected.” He waited, looking at Bella anxiously. “If you hate it—”

“I don’t hate it,” Bella cut him off. She smiled, taking the radio from his hands and turning it on. It worked perfectly.

Sinead and Neave glanced at each other and skipped out the kitchen, trading laughter and something about bets lost.

“I’m glad,” Vernon replied, genuinely relieved. He clapped his hands together. “Alright then! I’ve got your favorite cooking in the oven, should be done in about…fifteen more minutes? Yeah.”

Bella’s heart swelled, near bursting. “Stand up,” she said.

Vernon blinked, confused. Smile widening, she explained, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Understanding filled his gaze. Vernon stood, a shy little smile playing on his lips as he opened his arms and Bella wrapped hers around his shoulders, leaning on her tiptoes to reach him. His arms were warm around her, snug and safe and like home.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and she felt him give her a little squeeze.

“S’nothing,” Vernon’s voice was full of mirth. “Guess I’m good at tinkering after all.”

“Of course you are,” Bella leaned back and dropped her arms a little, holding onto his elbows instead. “You’re a cook! You mix things and tinker with ingredients. You’re already good with your hands, just like I’m…” Bella’s voice faded, with another odd wave of realization, “…good with words.”

Vernon grinned, and it lit up her world in frenzied sparks.

**-:-**

They were watching a program on the telly when a knock rapped on the door. “I’ll get it,” Vernon jumped up and left the room, leaving Bella with Sinead and Neave.

A few moments later he walked back in, with Billy following in behind him. “You’ve got a visitor,” Vernon smiled tightly.

“Billy,” said Bella, mildly.

“Bella. Could we talk for a moment? I-in private?”

Bella glanced at Vernon before standing up from the sofa and standing before him. “There’s not much really to say, Billy.”

He glanced nervously at Vernon and the twins behind them, who were doing a valiant job of pretending not to listen.

“I-is this because of Luna? Because I can fix her, I can.”

“It isn’t about Luna, not really.” Bella shook her head. “You are a wonderful, free spirit Billy, and I admire it. Greatly. But I am not the person for you. Nor you for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Bella smiled wistfully. “I don’t much either. We are still friends, Billy. I hope your inventions are welcomed in London.”

Billy opened his mouth and closed it suddenly. He took in her firm stance, unwavering. Her mind would not be changed so easily as it had the first time.

“I’ll see you around then, Bella.” He gave a short nod before letting himself out.

Bella stood for a moment, waiting for the guilt and sadness to settle in. When it didn’t, she turned back to the living room and sat down on the sofa between the twins and Vernon. “What’d I miss?”

**-:-**

The sink finally turned off in the kitchen. Bella was typing furiously away on her typewriter. She heard soft footsteps, and a shadow fell over her.

“Sgrìobhadh fhathast?” Vernon said with amusement.

Bella paused, frowning a little as her mind worked to translate. “Still…”

“Writing,” Vernon finished for her. “Still writing?” He leaned against the desk with the side of his thigh.

“Yes, I had a sudden burst of inspiration and I didn’t want to forget it,” Bella answered, flexing her fingers as she leaned back in her chair. “I don’t want to forget any of it.”

“You’ve a new story! That’s wonderful, Bells.”

Bella suppressed a snort and glanced up at him. Vernon winced. “No to the nickname, then?”

“No, no, it’s nice. It sounds different when you say it.”

“Why?” Vernon tilted his head.

“You know. All Scottish and pleasant, and,” she pitched her voice higher, “lovely.”

“I do _not_ sound like that.”

“You do!”

“Bella you are seriously risking any more good meals from me right now.”

“I never said it was a bad thing! I like your voice. It really is lovely.”

The mirth between them faded, and Bella wished she had bit her tongue instead. God, what was she saying?

Vernon’s lips quirked in a half little smile, saying nothing.

Bella cleared her throat. “So—”

“You ended things with Billy today.” Vernon had his arms folded, watching her. His body was relaxed but the question still lingered in his eyes. Bella nodded.

“Yeah. You know when you realize something doesn’t quite…fit? I was a little slow on it, I’m afraid. But he and I, we just didn’t fit.”

“He’s a nice bloke.”

“He is.”

“Untidy, mind.”

“God, so untidy,” Bella groaned, and Vernon chuckled. “Is it wrong of me to say it?”

“It’s not wrong. It’s how you feel.”

“I mean I don’t expect everyone to follow my—my—Bella-isms, but the man was a walking disaster. And yes, that was part of the reason I ended things, but really, we just weren’t right together.”

Vernon listened intently, nodding.

“You know,” Bella started, quietly, “I almost believed that being with him would…stop the things I do. The Bella-isms.”

“Bella-isms?” Vernon snorted disbelievingly.

“You know I’m not—not normal, Vernon. You’re too polite to say it, but Alfie wasn’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Bella.” Vernon looked at Bella sternly, with a firm scowl in place. It was one she’d seen often on him when he disciplined the girls, and Bella was not used to being on the receiving end. It was so un-Vernon-like. “You are just right, the way you are.”

She smiled softly. “That’s very kind, Vernon.”

“It’s true, and you know it.”

“It is. I’m happy with the way I am, happier now than ever before. Maybe that’s what made me realize it wasn’t going to work with Billy. I need a—a complement of myself, not a…I don’t know. Not a Billy.”

Vernon nodded in understanding. As the silence stretched between them Bella half-expected him to get up and leave, putter about as he was wont to do, but he didn’t. He stayed put.

Bella smiled a little.

“I think the girls have fallen asleep on the couch again,” she wondered out loud.

Vernon straightened, glancing at the time on his watch. “Damn.”

“They could sleep in the spare bedroom, again. I don’t mind.”

“Bless you,” Vernon sighed, shaking his head. “I swear I don’t mean for it, but things end up late here and we only live next door now, so there’s no real need to leave early anymore.”

“It’s fine,” Bella assured him. “I—I quite like it, actually. The company. Especially with Alfie gone. It feels less…alone, now.”

“Even if the girls shriek you awake at five in the morning?” Vernon quirked his eyebrow, wryly.

“Even then,” Bella laughed. “I like it. I love the girls, and I lo—” Bella paused, just in time. Vernon seemed to have noticed anyway and something shifted in his gaze, turning darker. Bella lifted her chin. “I like having you around, too.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “That makes two of us.” He glanced down at his shoes. “I haven’t given your present, yet.”

Bella frowned. “Yes you did. The radio.”

“Was a nice fix, but not a gift. Honestly Bella,” Vernon rolled his eyes before handing her a present, wrapped in simple colorful paper with a ribbon and bow. “Happy birthday.”

Bella accepted the gift with a shake of her head. “Vernon, you didn’t have to…” she trailed off as she began unraveling the present, carefully peeling away the paper before revealing a gold-threaded book.

“Oh my goodness,” Bella breathed, fingers tracing the words along the cover of the thick book: _One Thousand and One Nights_.

“It’s a first edition. At least, that’s what the seller on eBay told me,” Vernon ducked his head, hiding his gaze from hers. “The stories you tell the girls sometimes—they reminded me of the ones in here.”

“I love it. Really, Vernon,” she said emphatically, and Vernon practically glowed. She shook her head as she stared at the delicate binding. “You must’ve spent a fortune on this.”

Vernon shook his head. “It was nothing, Bella.”

Bella set the book down and looked at him seriously. “Now I know we’ve done it once already today, but you can’t expect me _not_ to after this.”

Vernon burst into a grin and held her tight when she launched herself in his arms. “Thank you,” she whispered, over and over, as he gently swayed their bodies together in the warmest hug of her life.

**-:-**

Vernon was kind and funny and remembered everything.

He knew how she liked things cleaned and when; he knew how she liked things arranged and what she liked to watch on the telly after dinner. He knew how to make her laugh and when she needed it most, or when she needed time for herself. He knew, and he never said a word about it.

She went over to his house for dinner sometimes, spending the evening in Alfie’s garden. He started taking antihistamines to ward off the worst of his allergies, and it gave them several hours of peaceful tea times while the girls ran between gardens.

She offered to clean the house a few times, but there wasn’t very much to clean. He was a tidy man himself, a miracle given he was raising two seven-year-old girls, and she had the chance to admire the quiet Vernon-ness of his new home. The shelves, while still holding Alfie’s horticultural books, now had stacks of cookbooks alongside them. There were less potted plants indoors, replaced with photo frames of his family and a beautiful woman that Bella surmised was his late wife.

What made her heartbeat jump was when, while tidying the bedroom, she saw the book. _Her_ book. _This Beautiful Fantastic_ , the copy she’d given him when she got published, sitting on the shelf beside his bed. It was carefully placed with a candle and one of Bella’s drawings that she’d given him months ago. As a thank-you to his thank-you, when he’d first barged into her kitchen to cook her breakfast.

Vernon was lovely and wonderful, and it had taken her months to see what she had dismissed.

She wasn’t going to overlook him ever again.

**-:-**

Vernon was chuckling as he knocked on the door again. “May I please come in _now_?”

Sinead and Neave popped open the door to their home, neighboring Bella’s, and shook their heads.

“Miss Bella said not. Yet!”

“Surely t’isn’t right nor proper to keep the homeowner away from his own home,” Vernon called through the door as it slammed in his face again.

Bella wringed her hands together nervously. “What do you think, girls?”

Sinead and Neave gave equally toothy grins and replied in unison, “It’s wonderful!”

Her hand shook as she opened the door. Vernon’s face immediately brightened when he saw her. “Am I allowed in now?” His eyes flickered down to the dress she was wearing, a deep maroon that had him stop breathing. “He…llo.” He shook his head and raked his teeth over his lower lip. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. If you would follow me, please.”

She could feel his eyes on her as they walked inside. She rounded on him, grabbing his shoulders and ushering him to the living room in time with the music playing in the background.

“Is that Julie Fowlis I hear?” Vernon asked with a laugh, glancing behind at her.

“Keep walking, sir,” Bella attempted to sound stern but it came off with a laugh.

 “So very rude to the guest of honor,” Vernon muttered. He stopped when they reached the living room, going completely still.

“Happy birthday!” Bella and the girls exclaimed.

“Oi, what’s all this?” Vernon said, sounding happy and surprised and his eyes filled with awe. “Did you do all this for little old me?”

“We helped decorate, Daddy,” the girls chimed in.

“Did you, now?” Vernon knelt down and crushed his daughters into a wriggly squirmy hug that left them giggling.

Bella tangled and untangled her fingers, fraught with nerves, as she cleared her throat. “The food—I hope you like it. I’m not as good as you, but it should be edible.”

“Edible?” Vernon snorted, then looked at the table laid out in the dining room. His jaw dropped. “Holy sh—”

“—She made a trifle! Look, see.” Sinead urged him towards the dessert at the end of the table. “It’s all your favorites.”

Vernon stared for a long moment at the food, then turned to Bella with a far more serious look than she expected. “How did you know?”

Bella bit her lip. “I may have looked through your cookbooks and seen which recipes you had marked. The girls were also happy to tell me what you liked best.”

“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” Vernon said, still a little in awe as he glanced around the heavily decorated room. “Thirty-three isn’t exactly a moment of hurrah.”

“It is for me,” Bella said simply, and slid her hand into his. Vernon smiled, holding her gaze, and something unspoken passed between them.

**-:-**

When the food had been eaten and the cake demolished, and the last drops of tea finished, Vernon tucked the girls in bed before joining Bella on the sofa.

“What a night,” Vernon sighed, rolling his shoulders as he settled next to her. “Thanks again. You’ve no idea how much this means to me.”

Bella smiled up at him. She watched as his eyes flickered down, looking at the sliver of space between his hand and hers. Bella held her breath, waiting. Watching, as he watched her. Slowly, hesitantly, he stroked his knuckles along her wrist. Bella spread her fingers, catching his in her own, and tangled them together.

“Bella,” Vernon said quietly.

“I still haven’t given you your present,” said Bella.

Vernon frowned. “Yes you did. The party…”

“Was your birthday party. Not your present. Honestly, Vernon,” Bella’s lips curled in a teasing smile, and Vernon huffed a small laugh.

She handed him his gift, wrapped in simple blue paper. He glanced at her with clear excitement and tore through it.

“Oh my god,” Vernon said with difficulty, visibly shaken.

“Read it,” Bella said softly.

Vernon swallowed hard, glancing at her in wonder. “Your second book. How? When?”

“It’s not been released yet, but that’s the first printed copy. And it’s for you. Read it, please,” Bella urged, her voice bordering desperate.

Slowly, Vernon returned his gaze to the thin little book. “ _This Beautiful Chaotic_ ,” he read aloud, with a small goose on the cover. “By Bella Brown.”

Bella nodded, clasping her hands tightly on her lap.

“‘Verity was a worrisome mouse, who was so determined to find what could make her happy that she was blind to the mouse who had been there the whole time.’” Vernon stopped, staring at the first page of the book for a stilted moment. His fingers fiercely gripped the edges of the book before snapping the book shut.

“What is it?” asked Bella, worried.

“Bella.”

“Please keep reading,” she pleaded.

Vernon put the book down and turned towards her, a look of such surety in his gaze that Bella had to look away.

“‘Verity searched and searched,’” Bella continued, her voice trembling, “but could not find what she was looking for. And Mr. Mouse, without fail, was there when she returned home empty-handed. Though she did not understand why he would bother with someone like her.’”

“I’m going to kiss you now, Bella, so I need you to stop talking.”

Bella gasped but promptly closed her mouth. Vernon leveled her with a stare, one full of love and warmth and everything she’d been feeling for weeks. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, his voice hushed.

Bella’s shook her head slowly. “You could never.”

The distance closed between them, and his lips pressed softly on hers. He pulled back, only for a moment, meeting her eyes. They began to smile at each other, laughing a little, and Vernon slanted his mouth against hers as his hand slid up her neck and into her hair.

 _This is so different,_ she thought as her mouth moved with his, sparks of lust and love and a sense of belonging coursing between them.

They pulled away for air, and Vernon pressed his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I am an idiot, Vernon,” Bella confessed.

Vernon shook his head, sliding his thumb along her lower lip. “No, not idiot. _Bòidheach_.”

 _Lovely,_ Bella realized when he began kissing her again, pulling her closer. They were so very lovely.


End file.
